


Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High

by OverAshed



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arctic Monkeys - Freeform, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Armitage Hux Has a Job Unlike Ben Solo, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo is a Mess, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kylux - Freeform, Lonely Ben Solo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26713042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverAshed/pseuds/OverAshed
Summary: Ben only calls Armitage when he's drunk. Little One Shot inspired by Arctic Monkeys' Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High - A Star Wars Fanfiction](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/693376) by OverAshed. 



> Trigger warning : mention of alcohol and drugs, harsh language

The street was empty, but it didn’t prevent Ben to be startled by any little move; even if it often turned out to only be his own shadow. That made him laugh. It was late, too late, and this night had been a night of excess. He would pay the price. The world was shaking, spinning, everything was blurry, so close yet so far. He tried to lean on a streetlamp, but his hand met nothing. Catching up just in time to the post, he managed to keep some kind of balance, get back on his feet, and finally lean on it. A brief look on the street confirmed he was still all alone.

Above all, he had not the slightest idea of where he was.

Nothing looked familiar, but he could barely see anything. He went through his pockets for his glasses, but he only found his wallet and keys; and suddenly he remembered he didn’t wear glasses. With the vain hope of clearing up his mind, he shook his head. One thing at the time… his phone. He didn’t forget it, did he? Nothing in his jacket; he patted his jeans’ pocket, and sighed of relief when founding the device. Not that it helped him in any way… he struggled for a few seconds with the fingerprint’s captor to unlock it. Squinting his eyes, he managed to read the time: 3:45 a.m. Thank god he didn’t have a job. He scrolled the screen looking for Google Maps; nothing.

“Ok… OK Google, he muttered, resigned. Where am I?”

His jaw was numb, but he spoke clearly enough, because the voice assistant answered; he knew this address. This street’s name…

Armitage. Armitage lived in this street.

“OK Google. Call… Call...”

What was his current nickname again? He mentally berated himself. Idiot, what an idiot!

“ _Who would you like to call?_ ”

“OK Google. Annoyage Hux.”

“ _Sorry. Who would you like to call?_ ”

Okay, so it wasn’t Annoyage. He cogitated for a moment.

“Ok Google, call… Jackass Hux.”

“ _Calling the contact Jackass Hux mobile._ ”

Next time, he’d call him Armitage. It would make things way easier. Two rings. Please make him pick up, please make him pick up…

“ _JESUS FUCKING CHRIST BEN._ ”

He didn’t seem happy.

“I’m glad to hear you too, Armie…”

“ _I hope you have a rocklike reason to call me at such a time._ ”

Ah, yes, the time. He didn’t think he could be asleep.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry… good reason and all. Uh…”

“ _Are you stoned? Or just drunk?_ ”

A little bit of both, to be honest.

“Dunno.”

Okay, a lot of both. A long sigh came from the speaker.

“ _What do you want?_ ”

Good question. Why did he call him? A reflex… he had thought of him, so he wanted to talk to him.

“ _Ben, if you don’t answer in thirty seconds, I’m gonna hang up._ ”

Ben hesitated. He didn’t want to stay alone tonight.

“I’m… I’m in your street.”

“ _What the hell are you doing here ?!_ ”

“No idea… got lost. Can’t… don’t want to… can… can you come pick me up?”

Only silence answered, and he held his breath. But nothing came. No screaming, no protesting, no insults. Just a little “bonk”.

“Armie?”

Still nothing.

“Armie?”

Did he hang up? Ben took a look at the screen; the call was still running.

“Armitage?”

He heard a few sounds and, finally, Armitage’s voice.

“ _You’re still there?_ ”

“Yeah…”

“ _Where are you exactly?_ ”

Excellent question. He rubbed his eyes; he really wasn’t seeing clear. Was there a restaurant, something…? He was just in front of a building, but he couldn’t seem to read the number.

“’n front of the eight… teen. In front of the eighteen. Maybe.”

“ _Okay. Don’t move, I’m on my way_.”

Ben felt a strange feeling down his throat. He was the one who asked him to come, but… he didn’t think he’d accept that easily. Without asking any question. Without debating. It was way more than he expected.

“Armie…”

“ _What?_ ”

“Don’t hang up please.”

A sigh. Or a yawn?

“ _I’ll be here in like five minutes. You’re gonna survive._ ”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“ _Five minutes, Ben._ ”

Yet he didn’t hang up. And Ben, shaking and still leaning on the streetlamp, slowly slipped to the ground. He was cold, despite his heavy jacket. His throat was dry. His head was spinning. He had constant chills in his hands. His view was getting blurrier, and he feared he might faint. He really abused…

“Armie?”

“ _I’m still here._ ”

He could feel how tired his voice was. He’d have liked to feel guilty for disturbing him so late at night, but he couldn’t. All that his mind, numbed by the mix of drugs and alcohol, could possibly think, was that he was happy to see him again.

“You’ll be here soon?”

“ _Let me the time to get out, would you?_ ”

His tone had become firmer. Okay, he was in a bad mood, Ben could handle it. Armitage was always in a bad mood. And, he should confess, it was very often his fault. He wasn’t making his life any easier.

“I called you Jackass in my contacts list.”

“ _Thanks for proving that you’re an ungrateful asshole, Ben Solo._ ”

“You’re the one who told me not to call you Armie.”

“ _I was thinking about using my full name. You know, Armitage._ ”

Ben laughed. What made it so funny? He hadn’t the slightest idea.

“ _I don’t see what’s funny._ ”

“It’s just that… I mean… it’s because you… oh, drop it.”

“ _You’re stoned. Dumbass._ ”

No shit Sherlock.

“Dumbass yourself.”

It wasn’t mature at all, even more giving that he knew it was the way Armitage cared about him. Without giving attention to what he was saying – probably lecturing him – Ben started to scan the street, looking for the familiar silhouette who quickly appeared. He recognized from a long distance his haughty gait and ginger hair.

“See you.”

“ _Where are you?_ ”

“Next to the lamp. Wait a second, I get up.”

He did, as best as he could.

“ _And what exactly were you doing on the ground? Can you even stand up?_ ”

“I was waiting for you. And yes daddy, I can stand up.”

A growl of disapproval sounded in the phone.

“ _Call me that one more time and I leave you here_.”

Ben couldn’t prevent himself from laughing.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I definitely would”, Armitage said, hanging up.

They stared at each other in silence for a minute, and Ben burst into laughter. Armitage’s hair, usually so carefully styled and plastered on his head, was completely messy. It gave him a certain charm, but it was mostly hilarious.

“Can I know what makes you laugh?”

Him getting annoyed wasn’t making things any better. Wiping a tear, Ben tried to get his breathing back, and calm down his hilarity.

“Sorry, sorry… that’s nothing.”

“What did you take exactly?”

“Not much!”

“Ben, please. I could see you’re high from a hundred miles. What did you take?”

Ben shrugged.

“I didn’t make a list.”

“Ben Organa-Solo, you’re a goddamn moron.”

Hard to contradict him, when it was precisely what Ben thought about himself. Armitage put his arm around his waist to uphold him, and he let him do obediently.

“Let’s go home.”

Ben nodded. He had spent way too much time outside. They walked silently towards the building, Ben following Armitage’s lead. He was getting tired, even if his thoughts were clearer. Well, less blurry. And the heat of Armitage’s arm in his back, the subtle pression of his body next to Ben’s, the delicate but firm grip of his hand on his waist, appeased the pain of his heart. The weight of loneliness had become lighter at the exact moment when he answered his call.

They quickly reached Armitage’s flat. He let Ben fall on the couch, or more accurately slump on it. Ben watched him take off his coat and shoes, before understanding he had to take off his owns. He struggled for a while with his laces; his fingers were numb, because of the cold or the alcohol, who could possibly know. Armitage sighed and kneeled before him, muttering something about having to do everything in his place. It shouldn’t have been so funny to Ben, but it was.

“You’re unbelievable”, mumbled Armitage.

He then proceeded to take off his jacket, and he was the one who got up to bring it to the coat hanger. Ben didn’t move an inch before he came back. He sat by his side and put his feet on the coffee table. It was one the habits which surprised Ben the first time he came here. Armitage was giving the impression of a strict and serious man; it was nothing but appearances. Well, not exactly. He knew very well how to be strict and serious, which would inevitably cause Ben to run away. But not in those moments. Maybe it was pity, but he saved him from his harangue before he came back to Earth.

It would take a while. He was higher than the Empire State. His own comparison made him chuckle.

“What’s funny now?”

“Too long to tell.”

Armitage rolled his eyes and Ben laughed.

“I should send you to bed right now.”

“Weren’t you the one saying you’re not my dad?”

“And I don’t wanna be. But you’re unable to take care of yourself alone.”

“Not fair… I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, I see that. You spend ten minutes alone, and you end up at my place, and far from sober.”

Ben breathed in displeasure.

“Defamation. I wasn’t alone tonight. I was with friends.”

“And how did you end up in my street?”

Excellent question.

“I think… I think they left without me.”

Silence followed this declaration. Then Armitage put his arms around Ben’s shoulders and brought him closer. Though he was surprised, Ben let himself get in the reassuring embrace. He wasn’t going to lie; he needed it. The last time he received affection was too long ago to remember… And when Armitage’s hand stroked his hair, he found himself at the edge of tears. To compensate, he giggled.

“Can I know why…”

“I’m so sorry those douchebags gave you up. They aren’t good friends.”

“Okay? This is a reason for a hug, I suppose.”

“Ben. Shut the fuck up.”

He could have complained. But he’d rather enjoy. Letting himself against Armitage, he sighed in comfort. It was good to be here, in his arms, far from the world’s torments. His heartbeat was strong, but it wasn’t unpleasing. They stayed this way for several minutes, to the extent that Ben started feeling tired. He could have fallen asleep there, against him, his body’s heat appeasing his shaking. But Armitage ended up stepping back.

“You should go to sleep Ben.”

“Not tired…”

Okay, it was a lie. An enormous lie. He was very tired. But he wanted to stay here. He circled his waist, getting him closer again.

“Ben…” Armitage protested.

He freed himself from his embrace. When he tried to get up, Ben grabbed him by the arm. Why? He didn’t have any argument, aside that he wanted him to stay. He didn’t want to be alone again. He needed his heat, his sweetness, his arms around his body. He couldn’t let him go. He pulled him closer, maybe too hard; Armitage literally fell on him. He could see the surprise on his face, a few inches away from his own.

For a moment, they remained still, staring at each other’s eyes. Ben could feel Armitage’s breath on his lips, drown in these emerald eyes, lose himself contemplating this face, so flawed yet so flawless. Time had stop. Nothing else mattered but the two of them, their jerky breaths, their shaking bodies.

“Ben…”

This. Armitage’s voice was less assured. But Ben didn’t let him continue his sentence. He crossed the distance between them and kissed him. His lips were sweet and hot. Delicate. Oh, how often he had dreamt of this moment… he grabbed Armitage’s arm tighter, tried to bring him closer. His body next to his own. His mouth against his. His heat. His heart which was beating, hard – or was it his own? And his hands on his hips, and…

Armitage had stood back, tearing himself away from his embrace.

“Armie?”

“Go to sleep, Ben.”

His voice was shaking and his gaze fleeing. Ben tried to grab his wrist, but he evaded.

“But…”

“There’s no ‘but’. Go to sleep, we… we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Why?!” Ben flared up.

His only answer was silence. Armitage wasn’t looking at him at all. What did this mean? He couldn’t possibly have missed the tension between them, when they were so close to each other, eye to eye… those green eyes in which Ben could have drowned. It didn’t make any sense…

“Why?” he repeated more slowly, in an almost plaintive tone.

“Because you’re high, Ben.”

He had nothing to answer to that.

“You can have my room. I’ll sleep on the couch. And I’d be grateful if you could not throw up in my bed.”

Ben was stunned. Was he really planning on acting like nothing happened?

“… that’s all you have to say?”

“Yes.”

His crude tone achieved to break Ben’s heart in two. Heartsick, he stood up, lurching.

“You’ll make it to the room alone or you need me to come with you?”

“It should be alright…” he whispered.

He dragged himself more than he walked to the room, not even closing the door behind him. Still dressed up, he fell onto the bed. His head was spinning, too much. Doing his best, he took off his jeans, undressed his shirt, and squeezed himself under the sheets. Those same sheets Armitage was asleep in a few dozens minutes ago. Armitage… Ben huddled himself under the sheets. By rolling himself in it, maybe he’d find the same sensation as his embrace… what occurred to him, for fuck’s sake? He should never have kissed him. Why did he do it, again? Because he wanted it… oh, he wanted it so hard. And he thought Armitage wanted it too. But the facts were clear: he was wrong. And now, he hated him. Tears came to his eyes, and he didn’t do anything to hold them back. This evening was a total mess.

Allowing himself to sob without holding back, he slowly fell into Morpheus’ arms.

He woke up with an horrendous headache. Jumping out of the bed, he ran to the toilets and threw up his stomach’s content; mostly bile. After a solid two minutes coughing and vomiting, he staggered to the bathroom to clean his mouth, and winced as he saw his reflection in the mirror. He looked awful; his eyes were red and swollen, and his bun was nothing more than a mass of tangled black hair. Fortunately, no one was there to notice it. Armitage might have left for work a while ago… what time was it? He went back to room to pick up his phone, only to discover it was out of battery. Amazing. Whatever, he’d just plug it when he’d get home… for now, he needed something to drink.

A few minutes and a glass of guava juice later, he sat in front of the TV, still in his underwear. If the kitchen’s clock was well settled, he had at least three hours before Armitage came back from work, and he had no will of going home. Of course, he’d better leave before Armitage returned… after last night’s events, the atmosphere would be uncomfortable… and Ben had absolutely no wish to discuss it. He had no wish to discuss anything, he felt like someone was drilling some hole into his skull, and the way Armitage cold-heartly pushed him back wasn’t doing any good. What a moron. How could he possibly think it was a good idea? The mixed drugs and alcohol he bathed in for the whole evening was a start of explanation, but, thinking about it, it had been a stupid idea since it started. At first, he shouldn’t have called Armitage. He should have headed straight back home, not disturbing anyone, and handle his mistakes alone like he always did.

Oh, what a joke. Like he ever had been able to handle anything. He grabbed one of the couch’s cushions and held it tight like a plush. His method might not be the good one. But he couldn’t just change. It would have taken too many efforts, too much energy. Drink to forget was so easier. Smoke life so it can’t smoke him was so comfortable. Even if when all was finished, he ended up lonelier than he started. Or on a couch, wearing only his boxers, staring at the TV without really seeing what was on screen, fighting the tears threatening to flood his eyes. He didn’t fight that long.

That was how Armitage found him, a few hours later, when he came back from work. He was holding the cushion against him, looking at the void. He stopped crying a while ago, but his host surely wouldn’t miss his red eyes, after he quickly took off his shoes before sitting in the armchair on his left.

“I didn’t think you’d stay.”

A nervous tic shook Ben’s upper lip.

“If you want me gone, say it.”

“That’s not what I wanted to say. You usually flee before we have the time to really discuss.”

It was true, but this didn’t prevent Ben from rolling his eyes.

“I wouldn’t leave if you weren’t always trying to lecture me.”

“And I wouldn’t have to lecture you if you acted responsible!”

“I don’t need you to judge my life’s choices. I can’t take care of myself on my own.”

Armitage gave him the most jaded look ever.

“Really, Ben?”

He might be right on this one, but he shouldn’t count on Ben to admit it. He just frowned, annoyed.

“Yes, really.”

“I’m sure you don’t even believe in what you just said.”

“Then stop assuming you know what I’m thinking!”

“I don’t need to assume anything. Ben, you’re almost naked on my couch. You think I don’t know you’ve cried? I just have to look at your face to…

“I wonder who made me cry in the first place!” he interrupted.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Fist clenched on his cushion, Ben held Armitage’s gaze, but Armitage quickly looked away.

“For yesterday…”

“Yeah, whatever. We were supposed to talk about it today. Unless you got something to say again?”

Armitage leaned on the back of the chair, sighing.

“Did you see how you were? There was no way in hell I could discuss anything with you.”

“No, you’d rather abandon me.”

“I didn’t abandon you, for fuck’s sake! I’m here! I’m trying to have this conversation with you and we’d probably be having it right now if you weren’t acting like a teenager in crisis!”

Ben took the hit. He didn’t have anything to say against that, because it was all true. But knowing it was a thing; accepting it…

“If I tried to kiss you right now, what would you do?”

If the question surprised him, Armitage didn’t show it. He just frowned delicately his thin ginger eyebrows and rested his chin on his knuckles. The fact that he needed to think wasn’t a good omen.

“I’d push you away.”

There goes Ben’s heart.

“Why?” he asked in a more plaintive tone than he would have wished.

The following silence was painful. Armitage wasn’t showing any emotion. For a second, Ben thought he saw a bit of sadness on his face, but he definitely wasn’t in the state to analyse the lesser startle of his facial muscles, even though he was staring at him, almost not winking. If it had to be the last time he saw him, he wanted to engrave in his memory this perfect skin, this intense gaze, this fire hair so disciplined, those delicate lips… those lips who slowly moved to give his sentence…

“Because you only call me when you’re high, Ben.”

His heart ended breaking up on the edge of despair.

The rest of the evening occurred in a kind of fog. After this statement, Ben had taken care of changing the subject, and Armitage had followed. They had talked about this and that, even joked, laughed a little, but their laughs sounded fake. When Armitage had offered him to stay for dinner, Ben had politely declined. And there he was, back to the start; alone in the street, with absolutely no will to go home.

He wandered a few hours in town, hands in his jacket’s pockets, ignoring the cold which numbed his limbs. Even with all the will in the world, he just couldn’t be mad at Armitage. Because he was right, fuck it. Since their first encounter, there wasn’t one time when Ben would have called him while he was sober. Because he was too stupid. Although, if Ben were someone else, he wouldn’t have dated himself. Oh, he acknowledged his flaws, his weaknesses… and his lack of efforts to compensate them. It wasn’t because of the lack of will… more out of spite. Why try, when everything fucks up?

The cold air was burning his lungs. Maybe it was time to go back to his flat. Armitage wouldn’t like to see him back so soon… or at all, if he judged by the events of today. Dragging the pace and the soul in pain, he took the direction of the four prison’s walls he didn’t dare to call “his home” anymore.

Unluckily, he hadn’t lost his keys. Battling with the lock – why were his hands still shaking? – he caught himself dreaming of setting the place on fire. Even if it implied going back to live with his parents… or maybe not. What was the worst? The weight of loneliness, or the weight of the hypocrite concern of his progenitors? For now, he hadn’t the slightest idea. He pushed the door, sighed. The flat was still that big, that empty, still that unwelcoming.

“I’m home,” he muttered.

Nobody was there to answer. His last roommate left after a week. Chemistry between them wasn’t really good. It was… how many time ago? Two, maybe three months? However, the experience discouraged him a little.

He hanged his jacket to the hook near the door, took off his shoes, and dragged himself to the couch. Beside of watching TV, again and again, there wasn’t much to do. Maybe at his parents’ the futile fights could keep his mind busy… but it was choosing Charybdis over Scylla. What did it take to have a little support and peace? If any God had an answer to give, Ben was ready to hear it. But, as usual, nothing came. No illumination, no divine apparition. Just the unbearable silence, only broken by the muttering of the continuous news channel. At first, the others’ misfortune made Ben relativise over his pitiful existence. It wasn’t working anymore. He was jaded. And people were surprised he would spend his time going out…who would have stayed prisoner of their own home, without anything nor anyone? What a pity.

What could Armitage be doing, while he was depressed on his couch? Probably eating dinner. Or maybe was he drinking a digestive herbal tea – he definitely was the type that drinks digestive herbal tea. How did he handle loneliness? Did he fear it too?

Mechanically, Ben touched his lips. He still remembered the feeling of the redhead’s; it only lasted a second… but what a second. Mostly, what a mistake…

He had never really realized how much he liked Armitage. Of course, he couldn’t not notice how handsome he was but, back in this time, he wasn’t really his type. Or maybe was he too drunk to realize he was his type. He always saw him as this slightly annoying friend he could always count on when he needed it. Not once did he turn his back on him. When he needed him, Armitage was here. Always. Whatever the time, the day, the reason. Not once did he miss to reach out to him.

Ben suddenly sat up straight. What an idiot he was! For Armitage, he was nothing but this little opportunist, who would only call him when he needed him… and yet… yet, Armitage was still here. Armitage cared for him. And all the gratitude he could show him was bothering him even more… he facepalmed.

“Ben Organa-Solo, you’re a goddamn moron.”

What a poor friend he was… and he couldn’t think of a way to fix things up. If he contacted him, right now… no, bad idea. Armitage might have more than enough of having him around. Even more after last evening’s event. He should probably apologize… he wanted to grab his phone, but changed his mind. This kind of things had to happen face-to-face. He’d better let a few days pass, so that the emotions would come down, and he could order his ideas. When he acted impulsively, things ended up badly. Yeah, he would wait, one day, maybe two, then he’d call Armitage. Decided, he switched channels, until he found a movie that looked promising. And, even if his attention quickly ran to dreaming about two emeralds overlined by red lashes, this change in his habits invigorated him. For the first time in weeks, he had an objective. An objective which didn’t imply him drowning in drugs and alcohol.

But it implied Armitage accepting his apologies. Otherwise, he’d lose a friend… and the world would get cold again. His heart carrying the weight of an anguish-tainted hope, he closed his eyes, slipping in the world of dreams.

Three days later, his sempiternal jacket on his shoulders, he was perambulating before his door. The heat of the apartment made the clothing hard to bear, but he couldn’t make up his mind to go out. He had been pushing back the deadline, and he was dying to keep it this way. He anguished. The idea of losing Armitage, that just effloresced his mind at the start, had became pervasive. To the extent that he couldn’t sleep last night. And now, he tried to convince himself to push the “call” touch before giving it up to panic. He breathed in deeply, breathed out. Seven p.m. and a half… Armitage was back from work, and might not be busy for the moment. He could do it, he could do it, he could do it…

He did it. He quickly brought the device to his ear. The first ring. He clenched. The second. The third…

“ _Ben, for fuck’s sake.”_

He let a long sigh of relief go.

“H-Hey Armi… tage.”

He could almost hear him lift his brows. It might have been the first time he used his full name.

“ _Ben Organa-Solo, what did you do this time?_ ”

“No… nothing. I just wanted to… how do I put it… well…”

“ _Are you drunk or stoned?_ ”

Ben pulled a face. He was pressing directly where it hurt. And he couldn’t pretend he didn’t deserve it…

“Neither. Actually…”

He could do it, he could do it, he could do it…

“ _Actually? Spit it out, you’re scaring me. What did you do?_ ”

“Nothing, I swear. I just wanted to… can we… can we meet?”

He just hoped that Armitage’s silence was a sign of surprise, and not of rejection…

“I, I can be at your place in twenty minutes,” he added. “Or, if you prefer, we can go somewhere else; there’s this café, the Acacia, not too far. Well… you’re not… you’re not forced to say yes.”

“ _And… why do you want to meet?_ ”

Ben hesitated.

“I need… I have to talk to you.”

He breathed in and added, before Armitage could answer:

“It’s important.”

He did it. He said it. It was in his court.

“ _I don’t know if it was supposed to reassure me, but it didn’t._ ”

“Just… just answer please.”

“ _Okay. We’ll meet at The Acacia_.”

Eight tons were just taken off his shoulders. Armitage had accepted. Well, he would have preferred the intimacy of his flat, but he was in no position to complain… not in this situation.

“Great. Thanks, uh… see you?”

“See you, Ben.”

He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he heard him laugh.

Ben hurried out of his apartment. He realized once out of the building that he left his bus card on the coffee table, but too bad; he wouldn’t mind some walking. It wasn’t that far, he was quite sure he’d arrive before Armitage. On the way, he repeated mentally what he had to say. Presented like that, it seemed so easy. Now what remained to be seen was how he’d manage it when the time would have come… well, this time, he was in full command of his faculties.

When he arrived at the Acacia, Armitage wasn’t there yet. He still took a look inside to be sure, but no red tuft of hair in sight. He sat at a table outside, ordered a grenadine diabolo, and waited, trying to calm down his heart, which was beating too fast, too hard.

The familiar silhouette finally appeared at the end of the street; he felt an amalgam of impatience and anxiety growing in him. He tried his best to display his most sincere smile, and to hide his concern. Armitage might have seen him, because he went straight to the table. He didn’t put styling gel in his hair, which flew freely with the wind. It was absolutely adorable; enough for Ben’s smile to grow wider. How handsome could this man be…

“Judging by your face, you’re not here to tell me you killed someone. Reassuring.”

“You believe that… but… but…”

Armitage shrugged.

“I was expecting the worst. But it doesn’t seem so bad, now.”

“I never said it was bad, I said it was important.”

“Isn’t it the same?”

“No! Absolutely not!”

“If you say so… I’m listening.”

Ben deeply breathed in, then breathed out, slowly. The time had come.

“What I wanted to say… well, actually there are several things, but mostly…”

“For fuck’s sake Ben, spit it out.”

He was right. It wasn’t the time to delay. He might as well end this as soon as possible.

“…I… am sorry?”

Armitage’s face fell. Oh no…

“You brought me here for nothing? Jesus Christ Ben, if it’s a joke it’s not funny. If you really have something to say, you tell me, but don’t go and look for excuses!”

“What? No! No, not at all! That’s what I wanted to tell you! That I’m sorry!”

The annoyed expression became surprise. Then a smile drew itself upon his lips.

“You need to be a bit more precise… what are you sorry for?”

“… everything? For being a dumbass. For bothering you each time, not being able to be a good friend, only benefit from your kindness, for… for everything I have done since I know you. I’m such a douchebag…”

He bowed his head, ready to accept his sentence. He raised it when he heard a sniffing, which was quickly followed by a laugh burst. Holy shit… he expected many reactions, but not that. It was even a little upsetting. He just put his pride aside, and he laughed at it?!

“Sorry, sorry,” Armitage said between two laughs. “Sorry,” he added once calmed. “It’s not… don’t think I’m making fun of you.”

“I don’t see why I would think that,” Ben mocked.

His sarcasm put an end to Armitage’s laughing.

“Really. I just, well, I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting a lot of things, but not that. I wouldn’t have thought you’d apologize.”

“I look like this much of an asshole?”

“Not at all… think for a second, idiot. You didn’t need to apologize. I appreciate, but I was never mad at you. I know you’re a moron. But don’t you think that, if I had a problem with that, I would have told you to fuck off a while ago?”

The most constructive answer Ben could give was a “ah” which ended up dying halfway said. He had no counter argument.

“I didn’t say it doesn’t piss me off, though… I accept your apologies, gladly. I got used to the idea that it’s how you are, see? With the inconveniences it implies. I like you, idiot.”

“But… last time…”

“Develop?”

“You said… you complained because I only call you when I’m stoned.”

“Yeah… I said that. But you’re gonna look at me and you’re gonna tell me that I’m wrong?”

Ben frowned.

“I’m sober right now.”

“And you hurried to prove me wrong. Marvellous!”

“You said that… to make me stop drinking?”

Armitage smirked.

“I’d like to say I did, but at the moment, it really pissed me off. It’s never really pleasant to feel like a vomit bucket.”

The comparison made Ben grimace.

“You’re contradicting yourself… you said you didn’t have a problem with that.”

“I said I didn’t have a problem with you. What I like about you is your humour, your repartee, even your foolishness. Having to clean up after you threw up is clearly less appreciable. I’d rather handle you dying of laughter on my couch because you farted. Less messy.”

He would have blamed it for remembering this anecdote, if only he hadn’t himself a perfectly clean memory of this moment…

“What an opinion you have on me…”

“Do I. But no hard feelings, I can give you that.”

He held out his hand over the table. Ben held out his own, before letting it fall.

“I also wanted to apologize for kissing you, last time… it was stupid, I shouldn’t have.”

He looked at the table’s corner. The conversation was getting pleasant, and now he just brought back the harsh subject…

“Apologies accepted. As long as you ask, next time…”

“Of course, I’ll… wait, what?!”

Realizing what he just said, Ben turned scarlet. Did he really hear what he heard? He couldn’t even interpret Armitage’s subtle smile.

“You’re making fun of me again, aren’t you? Why would I… why would you… oh fuck.”

He crossed his arms on the table and hid his face in between.

“You’re kidding me…”

“Am not.”

“But last time…”

“There was no way in hell I’d have taken advantage of the state you were in. You were drunk, stoned, whatever. Unable to consent.”

“But after…”

“You were on my nerves, that’s all. Ben…”

Armitage grabbed his wrist.

“I’ve noticed you since the first night. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me sober for four years.”

Ben’s cheeks were on fire. And he didn’t notice a thing… for so long…

“So… when you say you like me… you mean you… _like_ like me?”

Armitage’s laugh was in no way condescending. Ben started to feel his ears getting hot.

“Ben Organa-Solo…”

“I’m a goddamn moron, I know,” he muttered, lifting his heard up.

And so he made eye contact with those emeralds which haunted him those last few days.

“Sorry… for taking this long…”

“Don’t worry. I got used to the fact that you were completely stupid, with time.”

They looked at each other silently for minutes. Ben was trying to find in himself the courage to make a move. He couldn’t. Looking in those eyes, he couldn’t just think straight. He muttered a few unintelligible words.

“You’re gonna have to translate this, you know.”

“Armitage… can I kiss you?”

The sparkle that appeared in his eyes was worth everything in the world for Ben.

“I’m dying for it.”

Armitage bended over the table, and Ben did the same. Forgetting the café’s customers, the passers-by, the whole fucking world, he came to capture those tempting lips. And this time, Armitage didn’t push him back. This time, Armitage answered tenderly to the kiss, grabbing his hand to interlace their fingers. And time stopped. For an eternity, it was only them, their lips sealed, the burning dance of their tongues brushing against each other, and nothing else existed.

They only moved back to catch their breath.

“Armitage…”

Ben didn’t really know what he wanted to say. Emotions were hustling in his brain, but he couldn’t just get a reaction out of this.

“I just have to check on something,” Armitage replied, grabbing his glass.

He tasted the drink, then pushed it back to Ben, who looked at him, perplex.

“I wanted to be sure it wasn’t alcohol.”

“You didn’t believe me?!”

“As I said, I wanted to be sure. Now that I am… what about we continue this conversation at my place?”

Ben would have liked to be outraged by this lack of trust. But he only managed to laugh.

“With pleasure,” he answered, standing up.


End file.
